


typical fucking aces hockey

by sinspiration



Series: the kent/aces grouplove au [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Multi, Some Alcohol Use, Somehow?, mostly lots of kissing, not a pwp?, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: The first time it happens is right after Kent, with a fresh C on his jersey, scores his first hat trick of the season. The guys all come over to Kent's place after for drinks and to clap him on the back. Even once the ones with WAGs leave, the party still goes well into the night, and at some point, Kent ends up in Jeff's lap.





	

The first time it happens is right after Kent, with a fresh C on his jersey, scores his first hat trick of the season. The guys all come over to Kent's place after for drinks and to clap him on the back. Even once the ones with WAGs leave, the party still goes well into the night, and at some point, Kent ends up in Jeff's lap.

They make out for a fun few minutes, and then Carter makes a crack about it not being fair that Jeff gets all the action. So Kent, drunk and laughing, crawls into Carter's lap and gives him the same treatment. He ends up getting passed around to all the guys in turn, and by the end of it his mouth is red and swollen, hair mussed, and he's feeling _good_.

Half the guys get ubers home, the other half crashing on Kent's couch, in his guest room and, memorably, Artemi crawls into bed with him, both of them drunk and giggly over it. The next morning everyone drags themselves up, groaning, and go their separate ways to hurry up and get ready for team skate. Kent considers it a fun night and doesn't think too much about it.

 

\---

 

The second time it happens, well. They've just won their first Stanley. The locker room is a mess of cheering and hugging and champagne, and it doesn't stop even after the press leaves. Smithy grabs Kent and exclaims in Russian, squeezing him tight before pushing him against a locker and kissing the life out of him. He tastes like champagne and celebration. Kent grabs onto his shoulders and enthusiastically kisses back.

They all manage to make their way over to Swoops' place, since he's got a house. And a pool. Swoops' actually hosts a bunch of rookies, especially the ones with shaky English. It gives them a place to be comfortable and practice, he says, whenever someone asks. It's half the reason he got a house.

Now though, the house is teeming with team and the mood is electric, each of them taking turns hoisting the Cup, hugging it, taking dozens of pictures with it, and, of course, filling it with even more champagne.

Eventually the party dies down a little bit, the WAG-guys begging off to go home to bed to the chirps of their unattached teammates. Even Phil asks to turn in. All the remaining guys lovingly say goodnight to the Cup, and Swoops puts it and Phil up in one of his many guestrooms.

It's probably about four in the morning, but they're all still high on the win and too wired to go to sleep. None of them have anywhere to be anyway.

DJ is the first one to shuck his clothes and jump into the pool, and suddenly it's the best idea of the night and everyone's stripping down. Kent forgets to take off his shoes and gets stuck. Jeff, cackling, pulls off one shoe and Smithy gets the other, while Artemi grins and pulls Kent's pants down and off.

"Lightweight," Swoops snickers, from where he's watching the spectacle.

"Screw you!" Kent yells affectionately, trying to push himself up.

"No," Smithy comments, "He mean you weigh nothing!" And he grabs Kent and throws him into the pool.

Kent shrieks, flailing and laughing, and grabs onto Carter, who's close enough to act as an anchor. "You guys should treat me with more respect! I'm your captain!"

DJ pulls Kent away from Carter. "Right Parser, sure, cause you look so dignified right now."

Kent laughs and squirms. "Fuck you all, we won the cup!"

"We did!" Artemi cheers, jumping in, followed by Jeff and Smithy. "Good job captain!"

"Yeah," DJ says, from where he's still holding onto Kent. "Good fucking job, captain."

Kent's breath hitches a little, because all the guys are practically naked and crowding in close around him, but they're all drunk and happy and why not? "So? What are you all gonna give me?"

DJ's the one who kisses him first this time, holding Kent up so his feet leave the bottom of the pool. Then Jeff grabs at him, basically fucking Kent with his tongue, and Carter shoves DJ out of the way and starts sucking a hickey on Kent's neck. They're all holding him up in the water and passing him back and forth, and there are a _lot_ of hands on him. It's dizzying; overwhelming in a good way. Kent's breathless by the end of it, when he ends up in Smithy's arms, pressed back against Swoops.

"Good captain," Smithy says, licking drops of water off Kent's collarbone. Kent shudders. "Best captain."

There are general murmurs of agreement.

They all make it out of the pool eventually.

 

\---

 

The third time sort of solidifies it. There's no big-deal celebration. A group of them just go out to a club for some fun after practice and dinner. Kent's in his element, music, lights, dancing, and it's not the thrill and rush of the ice, but it's still something he genuinely enjoys.

Especially when he's out with friends. Kent's sort of grown past going to clubs by himself unless he really feels down--and lately, even when he's upset he prefers curling up at home with Kit, maybe catching a movie with Swoops or Artemi or something.

Now though, now he's on the floor dancing in between Carter and DJ to something with a great beat that Kent can feel in his bones. He shouts something to them about going to get something to drink and makes his way over to the bar.

He doesn't bother getting a _drink_ drink, because he doesn't need one right now; he's having fun even without the buzz of alcohol, just asks for some water and tries to see if he can make out where Artemi and Smithy went off too. They sometimes go off to Russian at each other. Kent's never gonna begrudge someone the need to feel more comfortable, but he hopes they're actually having fun.

He pushes his hair out of his face and absently looks over at the guy who sits down next to him. "Hey," The guy says with a smile. "You look like you're having a good time."

"I am," Kent smirks, because the guy is hot, and even if he doesn't really care about picking up tonight, flirting is always fun.

"Marcus," he says, holding out a hand.

"Kent."

Marcus runs his thumb over Kent's knuckles. "Buy you a drink?"

And okay, Kent wasn't going to, but if Marcus is _offering_. "Sure," he grins. "Surprise me."

He sees more than hears Marcus laugh and signal to the bartender. But when he turns back to Kent, the smile slides off his face and his eyes widen. Kent frowns and shifts to look over his shoulder because what the hell?

And apparently he's found Smithy and Artemi, because they're right behind him, _looming_ really, arms crossed, and glaring at Marcus.

Kent looks from one to the other. "What?" he asks

"Wonder where you go," Artemi says to him, before flicking his gaze back to Marcus. He looks decidedly unimpressed.

"Oh," Kent says. "Just getting some water. Was wondering where _you_ guys disappeared to."

"At table with Swoops and Jeff," Smithy says, glare softening when he looks down at Kent. "Thought you dance with Carter? DJ?"

"Well I was." He looks back to Marcus.

So does Smithy. "Go away."

"...that wasn't very nice," Kent says, once Marcus has scrambled out of his seat. But he finds he doesn't really mind? Smithy and Artemi are better than some stranger anyway.

"Okay," Artemi says, putting a hand on Kent's shoulder. "Let's go."

Kent had thought they meant back to Swoops and Jeff's table, but instead they coax him outside. To where Carter, DJ, Jeff, and Swoops are all waiting.

"Found him," Smithy says, looking smug.

"Great," from Jeff. "Where was he?"

"Talking to worm," Smithy says.

"Hey now--"

Artemi slings a hand over Kent's shoulder. "Is okay. You have us."

Us. That has a nice ring to it.

They call two ubers, and even then it's a tight fit. Carter, Smithy, and Swoops take one (because they are the most giant giants), and Kent ends up squished between Jeff and DJ, with Artemi in the front seat.

The cars pull up at their hotel, and all seven of them make their way towards the elevator, stopping on their floor. Kent goes to open his own door, and the guys push in behind him. Kent laughs; his hotel room is pretty nice, but seven hockey players still make it look small. "What are you guys even doing here?"

"Like you don't want us around," Jeff grins. And that's a good point. Kent pretty much always wants his team around him. They're his best friends, his solid foundation, loyal to a fault, and _his_.

And he's theirs.

So he sits down on the bed, legs wide, and leans back on his arms. "Who wants to go first?"

There is a little bit of shoving, but then Artemi calls, "One goal, one assist!" and there are general nods of agreement because yeah, Artemi did do the best in their last game (after Kent's two goals, the first of which was, after all, thanks to Artemi), so Artemi gets pushed forward, the other guys ragging him good-naturedly as he moves in between Kent's legs and cups the back of Kent's head before pulling him down in a kiss that is _filthy._

Kent dimly registers a hand sliding up his shorts, someone else pulling off his shoes, and then Artemi rolls off him and Swoop's takes his spot.

At some point between kissing Smithy and DJ, and touched by all of them, all over, a hand in his hair, on his stomach, his inner thigh, Kent loses his shirt and shorts, and then Carter grins at everyone and pulls Kent into his lap, scooting back on the bed until he's against the headboard, the other five in a circle around them.

Carter gets his knees under Kent's and then spreads, so Kent is splayed out, and from there he can't even keep track of what's going on or who's doing what, just lolls his head back onto Carter's shoulder and _feels_ , breath hitching as they work him over.

Carter's teeth close over one of Kent's earlobes and tugs, just as Smithy says into his other ear, "Always like this for us, always just like this," and they're all murmuring to him, encouragement to each other, "Do that again, he _likes_ that," "Let me try something," "Move over, is my turn."

He has absolutely no idea what time it is when someone says, "C'mon captain, bed time."

"Yeah," Kent mumbles. "Yeah, okay."

There isn't room for all of them in the bed to actually lie down. He's pretty sure it's DJ and Swoops who crowd in on either side of him. He'll find out tomorrow morning, probably.

"Night," he hears--Smithy, he can tell that's Smithy, say, as the lights click off, before he hears the sound of the door opening and shutting.

He already knows that it won't be weird. Tomorrow he's going to get breakfast with all of them, and they're going to talk about the game, the flight back home, maybe nap on each other, and it'll be just right.

Third time's the charm.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [justwritins](http://justwritins.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and I'm total cp trash right now. Come say hi!  
> 


End file.
